


Blame the Tequila: Chapter Ten

by gemini_cole



Series: Blame the Tequila [10]
Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-17 01:08:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3509519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gemini_cole/pseuds/gemini_cole





	Blame the Tequila: Chapter Ten

“Don’t get on the plane, I’m serious.”

            Tom stared at his phone in consternation for a moment before returning it to his ear. “I beg your pardon? Why not?”

            “She’s testing you, duh. You’ve never had a woman push you away before?”

            Tom could practically feel Tandy’s frustration with him through the phone, as she repeated herself. Dropping his bag he sunk into the nearest seat in the airport lounge. “How do you know she’s not about to walk through the door right now, ready to get back to London?”

            “Because I’m her best friend, I _know_ her and I can _feel_ it. Also, she told me so on the phone this morning.”

            Tom sighed, scrubbing his hand through his hair. “So what do you suggest I do? Because moving to Bumfuck, Georgia isn’t happening.”

            “Hey! Watch how you talk about Peachtree. It is a beloved and enchanting town filled with love, respect and hopes and dreams.”

            “ _Tandy_ …”

            “Right. You’ve run out of patience for my snark. You need to work on building up some endurance, though, because I have snark in droves. And you’re going to be on the receiving end of it a lot, apparently.”

            “Jesus Chris, Tandy. Could you just-“

            “Right, fine. Can’t you delay your fight a few more days? You need to prove to her that you’re serious. She still thinks you just flew into town to get your way again. Which from the sounds of it is totally true.”

            “I brought flowers! I came to dinner! I bit my tongue while Viola-“

            Tandy interrupted him, “Do you want my help or not? Because from the sound of it, you really don’t.”

            “Fine. What do I do to change her mind?”

            “Woo her.”

            “Seriously?”

            “Seriously. You have to prove to her that it’s more than just what _you_ want. I don’t mean ‘woo her’ in the romantic sense, that’s already gotten you in enough trouble. Just prove to her that you’re about more than just an endpoint. She thinks you’re just doing it to get your own way, or avoid a public scandal. If being a good daddy is truly what you want, you’re gonna need to at least be friends with your baby’s mama. So get to know her. Make her feel important, not just a means to an end. She doesn’t trust people easily. You’re going to have to put in some effort, and have some patience. Can you do that?”

            Tom paused, thinking about it.  Finally he mumbled, “Yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

            “You’re confidence is not inspiring, Thomas.”

            “Thanks. I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

            “Good luck, Tommy boy.”

            Tom sighed as he leaned back in his chair, pondering. He had a feeling he was going to need more than luck to figure this out.

 

* * *

 

            An hour later found Tom knocking once again at the front door of Miss Viola’s house. This time he held a mixed bouquet of daisies, roses, calla lilies, stalks of hyacinth and gladiolus as well as chrysanthemum and ranunculus. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. He through the glass as Viola came to the door, a surprised look on her face.

            “Aren’t you supposed to be on a plane right now?” 

            Tom gave her what he hoped was a charming smile as he replied, “I changed my mind. These are for Frankie. May I come in?”

            Viola hesitated, and then opened the door wider, allowing Tom inside. As he stepped inside, Charlie’s voice boomed from the kitchen, “He rallies! Tom, my boy! I thought I’d seen the last of you. Glad you proved me wrong, young feller.” He clapped Tom on the back hard enough to knock him forward a step. Giving him a conspirational wink, Charlie crowed, “Vi! Didn’t I tell you? Go wake up Frankie!”

            Before Viola could reply, Frankie interrupted them. Wandering into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes and stretching, she stopped short upon seeing Tom standing there.

            “Aren’t you supposed to be on a plane right now?”  Frankie queried, as Viola smiled triumphantly and Charlie chuckled.

            Tom held out the flowers to her as he replied. “I changed my mind. I brought you fresh flowers.”

            Before she could take them Frankie blanched and turned, running from the room. Shoving the flowers at Viola, Tom ran after her, reaching her just before the bathroom door slammed in his face. As Frankie kneeled over the toilet and retched, Tom gracefully scooped her hair back away from her face. For several long minutes the only sound was Frankie, while Tom tried not to join her sheerly out of sympathy.

            “I don’t need you here, I can do this part on my own, you know.”

            Tom winced at the harsh tone in her voice. “I’m sure you can,” he replied. “But isn’t it easier this way?”

            Frankie stood unsteadily. Tom handed her a damp washcloth as he asked, “Is it this bad every morning?”

            Frankie shook her head. “It comes and goes. I hadn’t had it the past few mornings; I thought I was done with this part. You must just bring it out. So why are you here, again? I thought you’d be long gone by now.”

            Tom choked back a sigh. Tandy hadn’t been kidding when she said this would be difficult. Brightly he replied, “I thought it’d be a shame if I left before I saw all of Peachtree City. I was hoping you wouldn’t mind playing tour guide for me for the afternoon?”

            Frankie regarded him suspiciously. “Why? It’s not like you’re ever coming back.”

            Tom replied evenly, “All the more reason to show me around then, isn’t it? Besides, I saw a Dairy Queen down the street and I hear they are not to be missed. You wouldn’t deprive me of that pleasure, would you?”

            Frankie sighed. “Fine. One day won’t kill me, I suppose. Give me a few minutes to shower and change.” At that she shoved Tom out of the bathroom and slammed the door smartly in his face.

            Tom wandered down the hallway. Hearing a loud whistle that could only belong to Charlie, he headed out the front door. Finding him on the front porch, Tom took a seat next to him and watched as Charlie continued to dig through what had to be the most cluttered tackle box he’d ever seen.

            “Big fisherman, are you, my boy?” Tom looked up, surprised to catch Charlie looking at him curiously.

            Tom shook his head. “Just holidays and the odd day with my father. Never really had the patience for it.”

            Charlie harrumphed. “Patience, huh? You’ve come to the right place for that. She’ll teach you that in spades.”

            Tom grinned. “Which, the fish or the girl?”

            Charlie laughed and slapped Tom on the back. “Boy, I hope it works out with you two. I’d love to fish the Thames.”

            “I don’t think there’s any catfish in the Thames, Charlie.” Frankie interrupted them as she sauntered out onto the porch, braiding her still damp hair. “Gonna catch me some for dinner tonight, I hope?” She gave his shoulder a friendly squeeze.

            Charlie grabbed her hand and gave it a smacking kiss. “From your lips to God’s ears, sweetheart.” Sizing up the couple he smirked to himself as he began repacking his tackle box. “You young’uns have a nice afternoon. Will we see you back here for lunch?”

            Frankie shook her head. “Tom wants to see the town, and apparently that involves Dairy Queen, which totally triggered my craving for chicken tenders. Maybe dinner, though.” Turning to Tom she asked, “Ready to go?”

            Tom nodded and they were off, walking down the road towards town. Silence descended between them, and Tom took the moment to cast glances at Frankie from the corner of his eye. She had a small scar on the corner of her right cheek shaped like a crescent moon.  “ _No time like the present, Hiddleston,”_ a voice whispered in his head. Clearing his throat, he asked, “How’d you get the scar on your cheek?”

            Frankie’s hand flew up to the spot on her cheek reflexively. “This one? When I was three. Charlie was teaching me how to cast a fishing pole. Why?”

            Tom shrugged. “I was just curious.”

            They came to the edge of town. Tom pointed to a brown-bricked building. “That’s the school, right? Is that where you went?”

            Frankie nodded. “That’s the elementary school.” She pointed. “See the slightly taller building just behind it? That’s the high school.”

            “I see. So what kind of student were you?”

            Frankie looked at him curiously. “Why?”

            “Tom shrugged. “Just trying to get a better picture. Besides, it’ll be good to know. Someday I can look at our kid and say ‘Just like your mum’ and know what I’m talking about. So?”

            Frankie stared long and hard at the school before answering. “I was one of the good girls. Smart, hated math but loved library time and social studies. That was elementary school.”

            “And in secondary school?”

            Frankie smiled. “High school?”

            Tom smiled back. “Tom-at-o, tom-a-toe.”

            “High school was pretty much the same, except I played softball, and my favorite subject was English. Still loved the library was still the good girl.”

            “Softball, huh? Like baseball, right? What position did you play?”

            Frankie nodded. “I was the center fielder.”

            Tom stared at the currently empty baseball field next to the school, trying to picture it. “Did Tandy play too?”

            Frankie rolled her eyes. “Of course not. Sports aren’t her thing. She was already on the pageant circuit back then.”

            As they began walking again, Tom asked, “When did you and Tandy become friends?”

            Frankie smiled. “Third grade. I’d forgotten my lunch, and she shared hers with me. I thought she was the coolest because she had grape Kool-Aid _and_ double-stuff Oreos in her lunch. She invited me over for a sleepover that same weekend and her mama gave me my first perm. We’ve been best friends ever since.” She shook her head ruefully as she remembered. “Mama was _livid_. I think she still holds it against Miss Ginnie for not asking permission first.”

            As they walked past the library Tom gestured to it and asked, “So what’s your favorite book?”

            “Too many to choose just one.”

            “Favorite children’s book?”

            “What’s with the 50 questions, Hiddleston?”

            “You aren’t exactly a conversationalist, this is the only way to keep you talking.”

            Frankie gave him an Oscar-worthy side eye but nonetheless replied, “Corduroy. Or there was this other one, called “The Little House” that I really loved. Grammy and Gramps enrolled me in a book club when I was born, and I had all these great hardcover books.” She had a far-off look in her eye as she added, “I wonder what happened to those.”

            As they talked, a large utility truck pulled up beside them. As Tom and Frankie watched, two men got out ladders and began stringing a sign between two stoplights.

            Tom looked at Frankie, and gestured to the sign. “What’s all this about?”

            “It’s the annual Spring Chicken Festival.”

            Tom gaped at Frankie, trying not to laugh. “The Spring Chicken Festival? Really?”

            Frankie smiled. “I know. It’s super cheesy, but that’s life in a small town. There are arts and craft fairs, a parade, a fried chicken contest, and a dance.”

            Tom giggled as he asked, “Is it the chicken dance?”

            Frankie shoved him. “Really?”

            “Oh come on! I had to! That joke practically tells itself!”

            Frankie started walking down the street. Gesturing, she adopted her best fake tour guide voice as she announced, “And on your left, you’ll find the Dairy Queen, known city-wide as the best place for bars of the Buster and Dilly variety.” She paused, smiling at him. “Ready for lunch?”

            After grabbing chicken tenders with honey mustard sauce for her, and a burger for him, After also ordering a mint Oreo blizzard to go for Frankie, they sat outside, soaking up the sunshine and watching the festival preparations as the quiet descended on them once again.

            Dipping a fry in his pool of ketchup, he finally asked, “So this dance. You want to go?”

            Frankie whipped her head back around to face Tom. “Go. To the dance. Like together?”

            Tom grinned at her. “Surely it would be easier than arriving separately?”

            Frankie gaped at him for several seconds then began laughing. It started as a giggle then erupted into full-blown, people-are-staring guffaws as Tom watched. Wiping tears from the corner of her eyes Frankie chortled, “Tom. You do realize this isn’t like a London club, right? I mean. There’s going to be country music. At some point people will polka. Whatever gave you the idea?”

            “I like trying new things. And believe it or not, I’m a pretty good dancer.” Leaning forward, he whispered, “What’s the matter? You scared?”

            Frankie leaned back, reaching for another fry nonchalantly. “Why would I be scared?”

            Tom grinned. “Why, indeed? So is that a yes?”

            Frankie shrugged. “Why not. I can’t wait to see you do the chicken dance.”

            As they got up to leave a moment later, both Tom and Frankie wondered to themselves just what they had just agreed to. Was this a date or an impending disaster?


End file.
